


Queer and New Who: A Commentary on Discussion

by AllesKlara



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Criticism, F/F, M/M, Meta, Multi, Nonfiction, Other, Representation, lgbt representation, queer representation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllesKlara/pseuds/AllesKlara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A relative newbie fan (and relative newbie queer) takes a look at some perceptions of queer representation in media, by way of New Who.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queer and New Who: A Commentary on Discussion

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a little more than two years ago, when I was deep in fanning DW and dismayed by queer representation in the just-starting-up Moffat era of the show--*and* dismayed by the directions many of the discussions about representation in DW and media generally were taking. I deleted my Livejournal account a while ago, and just realized maybe some folks might still want access to this. So here it is.

In 2005, the BBC revived Doctor Who as a new and much-changed property, pushing the show as a mainstream family TV event and crafting for it an increasingly distinct brand identity. After five years of developing that brand and working to manage a coherent sense of what Doctor Who "is" for audiences, the BBC has switched production teams, and fans are on the alert for changes in tone, style, and content. 

Classic Who had many such shifts. Long-term fans consider these par for the course in Who fandom. New Who, however, represents a show created and managed in a distinctly modern style—the management of a major marketing cross-media phenomenon, similar to Harry Potter or Twilight in its ubiquitousness and its power. New Who is an animal linked by culture, concept, continuity, and fandom to Classic Who, but it is also, in many ways, its own entity. 

In this light, a subsection of viewers (myself included) came into Doctor Who fandom with New Who, and liked what we were being sold. Some of us picked out aspects that we particularly liked, and believed that they were part of what Doctor Who "was"—the Doctor's avoidance of violence, the Doctor's inclusive enthusiasm for life and the universe, the focus on character relationships and personalities, even the occasional references to queer identities. 

With the shift in production team, we're all going to see which of these (and other) aspects are linked specifically to a production team, and which are solidly linked to brand identity and considered by the BBC, as much as by subsections of viewers, to be what Doctor Who now "is." 

Differences are already evident. For instance, the plot-driven vs. character-driven and Doctor-as-possibly-sexual vs. Doctor-as-possibly-asexual discussions regularly appear and reappear—but other differences have yet to be confirmed. We're at loose ends, as a fandom. We don't know what "our" show will be. We know what it was, in S1-4.5 and what it is, in S5—and, depending on how long we've been fans, we link these into a greater history of "was-ness," a cycle of ebbs and flows that almost stands as an identity in itself. 

There'll be discussion, and disagreement, and unhappiness (and happiness) as possible shifts settle into confirmed shifts and specific fan beliefs on what Doctor Who is are either confirmed or denied by these shifts. 

Shifts that focus on issues of identity and inclusion are going to bite hardest, because those hit most personally. Thus, queer fans who considered the on-the-fly queer references in the previous production team's seasons a part of what New Who "is" will feel discomfort and exclusion if this aspect of the show does not prove to be a continuing part of New Who as a brand. 

Changes, we know, are not meant personally (few production teams, particularly teams working on a headlining show for a national television entity seeking to draw the widest audience possible, are going to deliberately write to exclude)—but that doesn't change the fact that they are received personally. We know the BBC, Moffat, and the individual writers aren't haters of diversity, gleefully and willfully crossing out queer representation. We know they don't write with a checklist beside them, ticking off groups as they're included—nor do we want them to. But the possible drop-off of queer inclusion in New Who reminds queer-identifying viewers that we are often still absent in family media. We react with hurt and objection to this reminder, because we do not want to be ostracized from the uncomplicated narratives of loss and heroism and growing up. We aren't content with media segregation, relegated to our own miniseries or niche productions. We want the simple stories, and to be told that we exist in the universes of these stories—to be reassured that we are seen and included. 

Though our reactions to the series may have no effect on the show itself, through discussion we can learn how to clearly articulate what we want from fiction—and real life. Discussion of queer representation in New Who, then, is as relevant as discussion of any other aspect of the show, and has its place in fandom. 

Having established the issue as one that deserves talking about, on to the specifics: pitfalls in discussion of queer and New Who. 

**First, let's define terms.**

**New Who:** all aired television episodes of Doctor Who following the 2005 relaunch. This leaves out Classic Who and the queer following it acquired, but it limits the discussion to material I believe most members of the fandom will be familiar with and that reflects current social and media culture. (This is not me arguing that Classic Who and queer should not be discussed together; it's me defining what I mean by "New Who" and where my focus lies in this article). I don't include the Children in Need specials, or the Proms, to slim things down further. 

**Queer:** this one's harder to define. Queer was once a derogatory term for gay men, lesbians, and others who transgressed accepted gender roles. It has been reclaimed as an inclusive term for the LGBTQI (or other alphabet-soup combination) community. It's shorter than LGBTQI, and more inclusive. It can be troublesome, because it doesn't specify which subcommunities are included in "queer," but it's useful for the same reason. As I use it here, it includes transsexual and transgendered, intersexed, gay and lesbian, and pan-, bi- and omnisexuals. If my understanding of the term is correct, asexuality can also be included. (Representing asexuality definitively and textually in media is a challenge that I think needs to be addressed, and I would love to see meta on it.) I'll be favoring sexuality as indicated in references to or performance of romantic relationships and flirtation in this article, as that's largely what's been seen in New Who so far.

Those are the words. Here are the trends in discussion I've seen. *

**\- "It isn't the show's job to represent minorities."**

The BBC, as a national television network, a public service supported by public funds, does have a self-avowed mission to represent diversity, articulated as part of its Editorial Guidelines: 

_The BBC aims to reflect the world as it is, including all aspects of the human experience and the realities of the natural world. In doing so, we balance our right to broadcast and publish innovative and challenging content appropriate to each of our services with our responsibility to protect the vulnerable._

_When we broadcast or publish challenging material which risks offending some of our audience we must always be able to demonstrate a clear editorial purpose. Such material may include, but is not limited to, offensive language, humiliation, sexual violence and discriminatory treatment. We must be sensitive to audience expectations, particularly in relation to the protection of children, as well as clearly signposting the material._

They also state: 

We aim to reflect fully and fairly all of the United Kingdom's people and cultures in our services. Content may reflect the prejudice and disadvantage which exist in our society but we should not perpetuate it. We should avoid offensive or stereotypical assumptions and people should only be described in terms of their disability, age, sexual orientation and so on when clearly editorially justified.

The full Editorial Guidelines on Harm and Offence can be found [here](http://www.bbc.co.uk/editorialguidelines/guidelines/). 

**\- "RTD slipped a lot by."**

Again, the BBC is a national network, supported by public funds and viewed as a public service. Its Editorial Guidelines state: 

_Programmes must be clearly commissioned for broadcast before or after the Watershed to allow careful judgements to be made during the production process about the suitability of content._

As a pre-Watershed headlining show, heavily marketed and pitched to general audiences, the BBC would have been well aware of the content of New Who under Russell T. Davies during S1-4.5. They selected Russell T. Davies knowing his past work ( _Queer as Folk_ and _Bob & Rose_, for instance); the references would not have slipped in without BBC awareness, nor would they have been unexpected. 

**\- "S1-S4.5 didn't incorporate queerness perfectly."**

Nope, they didn’t. There's a lot that could be challenged in these seasons. More could have been done; it could have been incorporated more smoothly; it could have not had the only character who, textually, was possibly transsexual or transgendered be both spectacle and villain (Lady Cassandra). The list goes on, depending on your viewpoint and how you think references or characters are best integrated and portrayed. But queer visibility was there. Regularly, unavoidably, there. 

**\- "In S5, it was there in the subtext."**

Subtext isn't text. Text is undeniable, irrefutable, intentional inclusion. Text is Craig's line in "The Lodger": "Well, in case you want to bring someone 'round. A girlfriend or...boyfriend." If Gareth Roberts were asked to deny that that line acknowledged queer relationships, he would have to do linguistic backflips to manage it. The audience knows what telling a man he can have a boyfriend over means; it's very difficult to misinterpret. 

Subtext is deniable and relies on interpretation—and can be included without intention. Fandom's grown up around characters for which viewers see subtext that the creators deny intentionally including. Even blatant subtext that it's difficult to imagine was not intentionally included—the Master in "The End of Time, Part One" strapping the Doctor into a bondage chair and proceeding to have an emotional conversation with him with lines like "I wonder what I'd be without you" from the Doctor—is still subtext. Russell T. Davies could easily say he intended the scene to simply be high melodrama. The characters don't mention a past couple relationship, they don't touch in any definite symbol-of-romantic-attraction way, they don't say, "I love you." There's no text. There's subtext. 

Fandom is trained to see subtext, intentional and not. But subtext is deniable, by viewers and creators. Subtext can be rendered invisible; text cannot. 

**\- "I see everyone as potentially queer."**

We're in fandom. Many of us have trained our eyes to see relationships, and to create them where they aren't acknowledged in the text. It's a special kind of viewership. I entered fandom a few years ago, and I know that, at the time, I had no idea where everyone was getting slash relationships from. "In the text, they're just friends (or enemies, or partners, or next-door neighbors)!" I had to learn to see subtext. Most viewers don't have this training. They aren't digging back into the text and remixing it and interpreting it. Most viewers—the ones the BBC and showrunners and writers refer to when they say the show isn't just "for the fans"—don't have the shipper's eye trained into them. 

If you came to seeing all sexualities as potential for all characters before you hit fandom, you're remarkable. You're where I would love many more viewers to be—and where I think we need more visible references to queer sexualities to get us. The more textual queer relationships appear in media, the more audiences will see the potential for queer relationships in media—and in real life. Mass media allows viewers to encounter and think about identities beyond their own experience. It's a safe zone for introducing and exploring different ways of looking at and thinking about the world.

**\- "Straight people can't write queer references."**

Creators, on a regular basis, author works that include characters outside of their personal realm of experience. They may do so with varying degrees of success and comfort, but there's nothing preventing them from giving it a go. A lot of us in fandom are writers—we're regularly writing characters outside of our realms of experience. We know it can be done. 

Straight men certainly have the capacity to write a work, review it, and alter a pronoun to create a reference. This sidesteps entirely the ability (or desire) to imagine a full character or personality. (My favorite queer line in S1-4.5 was Sky, in "Midnight"'s, "Oh, the usual. She needed her own space, as they say. A different galaxy, in fact. I reckon that's enough space, don't you?" It was very short, it told you something about the character which made her seem a person—she was running away from personal hurt—and it gave the Doctor a chance to empathize. It also was a queer reference. She could have just as easily said "he" and the moment of inclusion would never have appeared, with the line serving its other purposes just as well.) It doesn't even require much regularity. Four to five lines a season, of rock-solid, irrefutable textuality, made me extraordinarily happy, in S1-4.5. It's breadcrumbs, maybe—being thrown a bone—but it's a bone I was happy to have. 

**\- "It's a family show."**

Queer people have families. They grow up in families, and being in a relationship with someone of the same sex doesn't take away someone's reproductive capabilities, or their ability to raise and care for children. To say that simply mentioning queer existence is inherently unacceptable for children (when it's appropriate for children to watch different-sex couples fall in love, raise families, and kiss) is hurtful on a very deep level. It puts queer people kissing or saying they're in a relationship in the same category as gory violence, sex scenes, and shouted curse words—common taboos in family television. A kiss between two people of the same sex becomes, somehow, more explicit than a kiss between two people of opposite sexes.

Different-sex couples publicly express sexuality without fear of recrimination—holding hands, hugging on a subway, kissing each other goodbye at doorways. There is no reason why similar same-sex interactions should be lumped in with public sex as inappropriate and explicit. The more queer identities and relationships appear in mainstream media like New Who, the less strong this wrongful association will become.

**\- "Sex = sexuality."**

This connects, I think, to the previous point. There seems to be an assumption that sexuality equals sex. Sexuality is a word that seems to be in flux at present, and is used differently in different contexts; Wikipedia currently defines it as "how people experience the erotic and express themselves as sexual beings" and notes that it has physical, emotional, and biological components—the "emotional aspects deal with the intense emotions relating to sexual acts and associated social bonds." How an individual interacts with other human beings on the basis of their own understanding of their sexual orientation and attractions and the perceived orientations and attractiveness of those around them, then, is an aspect of sexuality—flirting is an expression of sexuality, marriage is an expression of sexuality, the steps of romance have sexuality at their core. 

"Sex," as I'm using it here, means "sexual intercourse." Sexuality can lead to sexual intercourse, but it doesn't have to. A wide range of behaviors are based in sexuality but don't include sex—including the rituals performed around romantic relationships, like flirting, kissing, holding hands, dating, and marriage/commitment to a partner. 

All of these child-viewer-safe rituals are as often engaged in by queer-identifying people as they are by straight-identifying people. 

**\- "The new season shows very little sexuality."**

S5 highlighted a great deal of sexuality. The centerpiece of the season was a relationship between a man and a woman, leading to marriage. Amy and Rory have the cues of a romantic couple throughout—the engagement ring, marriage, the declaration of love, the long kiss after separation. Amy directly propositions the Doctor; Craig and Sophie kiss and later make out in "The Lodger." There's sexuality aplenty—and overt sexuality, not simply passing references to a boyfriend or girlfriend or to past relationships or to finding someone attractive. Physical, performed sexuality is present throughout this season.

**\- "References to queer sexuality seem forced, artificial, and contrived."**

Anything that we're not used to seems forced, artificial, and contrived. All written speech and narrative action within a story have an element in which they are forced, artificial, and contrived—they're action and speech pressing towards a narrative purpose, designed and streamlined to give information to and evoke emotions from an audience. Some writers manage convincing naturalism. Others write people who reel off exposition lectures mid-conversation or talk in taglines lifted from other works. 

Overall, though, what seems natural and realistic is what mirrors what we're used to seeing in other stories—what doesn't surprise us. When something that isn't usually included in a story shows up in one, it's startling—particularly if it's something we're sensitized to viewing as political, like race, class, or sexuality, and particularly if it's treated as not a political issue (not part of a narrative specifically focused on racism or sexism or class struggles) but as simply part of the setting or background. If a politicized identity just is, in a narrative, it seems strange, because it's rarely allowed to "just be" in public discourse. 

If a character, literally, word-for-word, stops a narrative to say, "I'm gay!," I agree. That's artificial, forced, and contrived. If a female character, who thinks they're going to die, gives a ring to someone else, and tells them to get the ring to their wife or partner, that's not contrived. That's something someone would actually do. Characters do this for opposite-sex partners frequently, in stories. The only way queer presence like this will become "natural" in viewers' eyes, though, is for it to appear more frequently. What regularly appears in family media is considered natural in family media—it's a cycle, and any identity breaking into it will seem contrived, until it's integrated into the cycle by frequent appearances.

**\- "It isn't relevant to the plot."**

The relationships and romantic/sexual attractions of main characters are almost always plot-central, in television storytelling—and they have been, consistently, in all of the seasons of New Who. Were a queer-identifying main character introduced into New Who, their relationships and romantic/sexual attractions would become central to the plot, according to the mold of New Who. 

Tertiary and secondary characters, in relationship to the plot, exist either as game tokens (pieces to be manipulated within the plot, to force the main characters to take certain actions) or as set dressing (the environment has people and is thus a real environment). Technically, plot doesn't require any naturalism from secondary or tertiary characters—they can be complete ciphers. That may make for a plot that works, but it doesn't make for very satisfying watching. To emotionally invest in the fate of secondary characters (to want the main characters to save them, or to want them to do something fantastic and help the main characters), viewers need some evidence that they're real people. The trick of storytelling is to make the game tokens not feel like game tokens. 

And a great way to do that is to give them lines or tiny moments where they reveal that they have families or friends or romantic relationships, because that's very human. It's one of those things we identify with our species. We love, and care, and protect those we love and care about. 

Throw in four or five lines per season where the set-dressing love and care are explicitly queer, and you've made me happy for a season, and left the plot completely intact.

**\- "Heterosexuality = anti-queer, and queer = anti-heterosexuality"**

Heterosexual identities and relationships and queer identities and relationships are not forces in opposition. They are not matter and anti-matter. Heterosexual characters engaging in male/female relationships are not an attack on queer identities—and neither are queer characters engaging in romantic rituals attacks on heterosexual identities. The two can both be portrayed, within the same television series, without either damaging the portrayal of the other.

Wanting queer presence in media doesn't mean wanting heterosexual representation to disappear, and wanting heterosexual representation to remain in media doesn't mean supporting the exclusion of queer presence. Both can exist together, but people will believe this only when they see it for themselves, in real life or in mainstream media like New Who.

**\- "Queer individuals aren't part of mainstream culture."**

Yes, some queer-identifying people have (and do) form specific queer-centric communities. Often, these communities are and were formed out of a desire to celebrate and express identities rejected by the mainstream. Many queer-identifying people, however (including many who distance themselves from the mainstream later in life), were brought up and live in the culture at large, watching the same shows, shopping at the same places, listening to the same music, living in the same housing developments and apartment communities. We are part of the mainstream culture—and that's why many of us want to start showing up within its mainstream media. We want to know that we are seen, represented, and included—that we don't need to separate to be safe and valued as human beings.

**\- "Nonrepresentation reflects reality."**

"Reality" varies greatly from individual experience to individual experience. If you live in a small rural community, your reality may include no known personal exposure to queer identities; if you live in a large urban center, your reality may include exposure to many queer identities (and these are rampantly generalizing examples—rural does not equal hostile anymore than urban equals friendly). Media cannot reflect any individual's reality exactly. A major mainstream show like New Who does the best job of reflecting the realities of its audiences (everyone in the U.S. and UK, if marketing had its way!) if it highlights as many realities as possible. It can do a different "reality mix" in every episode—and with a season's worth of episodes, that's room for thirteen different mixes.

And why limit New Who to a perfect mirror of present reality? Fantasy and science fiction allow the creation and exploration of worlds and people freed from the conventions of the here and now. In a universe where dreams can save everything, surely a few of those dreams could be queer.


End file.
